Masquerade
by MyCurrentObsession
Summary: Really they weren’t so different. He was a man without a heart pretending he could feel. She was a woman with a heart pretending she could feel for someone other than one man. He had an excuse for needing to pretend he could feel. She didn’t.


AN- SO many other fics I could be working on, and of course I choose to crank out something completely new. Bad me. Anyway, this idea just kind of hit me over the head and refused to go away, so… Enjoy~!

Disclaimer: I own various KH and FF games, but unfortunately not the series'. Bummer.

* * *

**Masquerade**

He was cloaked in black. An enemy, she'd been told. Yuffie and Leon had been sure to inform the martial artist that the opponents, these _Nobodies_, were ruled by a group in black. She had paid that much attention, at least, despite her mind being elsewhere---with an enigmatic figure she'd once thought she knew.

The man had yet to notice her, despite the fact that she was purposefully leaving her power unchecked for him to sense. He himself had repressed power rolling off of him in waves, though, she noticed.

A melancholic sigh, and he raises his arms to remove his hood. The young man is blonde, though not nearly so much as _he _is. In comparison to _him_, the blonde in front of her is a mere boy.

The boy sits down slowly, oblivious to the Heartless around him---they wouldn't be interested in him, anyway. No heart. Large bubbles of water form from the surrounding vapor, and combine to form a most peculiar weapon.

She tenses, thinking he's noticed her at last, but no, he begins to strum his _instrument_, she realizes, producing such a sound of sorrow that she bites down on her lip cruelly, trying to distract herself from the painful clenching of her heart and a powerful longing for a figure she had long since attempted and failed to banish from her mind. She wonders briefly how a being without a heart---without _feelings_---can produce such a moving tune.

But no, she should be killing him, not pondering him. He's the enemy, after all.

But he's done no wrong in her eyes. Not yet.

Instead, she approaches tentatively, and he finally takes notice of her presence. She knows because, for the smallest moment, his fingers fumble in his otherwise perfect performance when her power washes over him. Yet, as if he sees no threat, he continues to play calmly.

So she sits. And waits.

Finally, his fingers lull, and he looks up slowly, a false friendliness adorning his face. She can see the caution behind his eyes.

She speaks bluntly. "Why do you play such a sad melody?"

He stares at her, and seems to pick his words carefully. "…It describes my current situation. I guess."

Her wine red eyes bore into him. "A song of such powerful melancholy… that is the state of your life?"

He looks away. "…I guess you could say that."

She lets the information sink in for a moment before coming to a decision. "Play a lighter, happier song for me."

He immediately lets the appropriate amount of shock seep onto his visage, but the feeling is missing from his aquamarine eyes. His gaze darts around the area while he thinks her _order _over, pretending as if he has a choice. "Okay."

He doesn't even ask why she wants him to.

The moment the music starts, she can feel a calm, soothing wave wash over her. Relaxation comes---for the first time since childhood---quickly and easily. The wave brings with it emotional memories.

A time before the darkness. They were all just children. Happy, oblivious children. Squall and Rinoa, Aerith and Zack. Before death, or the loss of hearts and their world. She and _him_. Before everything changed, and her every smile became faked.

Before he left. Before he took her heart with him, ripping it from her very being and not looking back.

Hollow Bastion was back, she knew, but her world still consisted only of him. Meanwhile, he had slowly begun to recover. His world had many people, each and every one of them easing the darkness in his heart more and more. Aerith. Yuffie. Leon. Sora. The memory of Zack. Not her, though.

She only pretended they were in her heart. Once upon a time, she'd loved all of them, but now, she saw only him.

She shook the intense melancholy off and opened her eyes, wondering when she'd closed them in the first place.

The blonde in front of her isn't _him_, and for a moment she wishes to do nothing more than return to her happy-yet-heartbreaking dream. Instead, she meets his inquiring gaze head-on.

His mask is perfect, she admits. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was just another troubled man instead of a pretending-to-be-troubled Nobody.

She fakes a smile. "Thank you."

He gives her an equally faked one back. "Of course."

Really they weren't so different. He was a man without a heart and pretending he could feel. She was a woman _with_ a heart pretending she could feel for someone other than one man. Their masks were both perfect and impossible to detect for those who didn't know better.

He had an excuse for needing to pretend he could feel. She didn't.

This realization should sting, she knows. But it doesn't. All she feels is empty.

Abruptly, she stands and stalks away.

He calls her back. "Wait!"

She halts, glances backwards. She doesn't turn around. Not yet. "Why?"

He, too, stands, though awkwardly. "…Shouldn't we… introduce ourselves, or something?"

Now, she turns. "Why? We… won't see each other again, will we?"

His aquamarine eyes widen, and suddenly, the mask is gone. The completely _blank _expression on his face would've caused a lesser person to flinch, but she stands her ground. Her face is almost as expressionless as his.

He breaks their linked gazes first. "…No. After tomorrow… you'll never see me again." Under his breath, she hears him mutter, "…No one will."

Their eyes meet again, and despite the fact that his mask is long gone, she can see in his eyes a deep, powerful mourning. A wave of melancholy threatens to drown her in those aqua pools.

And so she turns away. "…That's fine." And walks away. "Goodbye, then."

He doesn't call after her again.

She doesn't look back.

* * *

The next day, while a woman named Tifa Lockhart was preoccupied chasing after her blonde past, present, and future, a Nobody named Demyx carried out a certain group's orders to attack the Keybearer.

And died.

* * *

And somewhere in the rain, porcelain dolls wept.

* * *

AN- Yeah… there's really nothing I can say, other than that I felt like trying my hand at something depressing. My reasoning for Tifa here is that, well, it's always seemed to me that in the KH game, at least, she doesn't care about _anything _other than Cloud, so that's reflected here by him metaphorically causing her to lose her heart. Demyx… he's a goof, but technically, has no heart, meaning the goof thing is his mask. And if you don't get the final line... don't worry about it, okay? It's meant to add something to the story, yeah, but you can still understand everything without that one line, so... Anyway, constructive criticism helps!


End file.
